


Scales of Blue and Red

by moominjeolmie



Category: AB6IX (Band)
Genre: Deities, M/M, Will add as I go along, chamhwi, god!donghyun, god!woojin, god!woong, god!youngmin, human!daehwi, idk how to tag, woongmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moominjeolmie/pseuds/moominjeolmie
Summary: If the Gods shape our lives, who shapes the Gods'?





	1. The Two Gods

**Author's Note:**

> WATERING THIS TAG BECAUSE WE NEED WOONGMIN FICS
> 
> Hi, this is my first AB6IX au <3 this, I promise, will be finished unlike my other works skksksksks. Comment down below for any suggestions and/or comments. Hope y'all like it <3

Short-winded breaths and heavy footsteps resonate throughout the lonely street. He frantically blinks as he scours left and right the dark alley despite his legs shaking from the cold but still refusing to give up. He cannot die now. He must give the amulet to the boss. That way, he can still live with her.

It was always about her: her cooking, her dance, her smile. The way her face will light up when he sees him. The way his world becomes pink and blue whenever she carries the flowers from her garden. But it was just because of that stupid God that he cannot see the world brightly anymore. His world suddenly became black and white the moment she laid down in the white room. His every step hurt as if being pricked by needles when he sees the machine keeping her alive. All because of that stupid God.

They were enjoying the warm summer breeze across Han River, freshly picked flowers on her hand. She then gently hooks her arm to his and smiles, eyes trained downward. He sees her bite her lip in a soft smile, still not looking at him. It was perfect, until that blasted God came, the God of Chaos. He cannot forget that sly smirk the deity gave him when he flicks his forefinger – the sly smirk that tore his world apart.

Just as when his knees buckle and lungs about to collapse, he sees a quaint cottage at the far end of the road. With the last of his remaining strength, he sprints with desperation. With every step closer to the cottage, the scent of flowers also intensified. The scent of roses kissed his damp shirt and the lavenders nudged his nose. He keeps moving on, but the light when the door opened makes him cover his eyes. He cries in pain as his knees scratch the ground, hot red liquid oozing out of them.

The scent of the flowers keeps on getting stronger, making him feel lightheaded. He then opens his eyes, only to see a blond male with skin as white as snow, eyes as bright as the stars, and hair as clear as day.

“Tell me, why do you defy a God?”

It is when his eyes open wide. He struggles to get up, but kneels, nevertheless. Dirt enters his wound, but he decides not to care.

“He took away my world. He took away my eyes, my dreams, my happiness. He took away everything.”

The blond male bites his lip as he sees the amulet. The large trees began to sway in a peculiar manner. The birds began to fly away, crowing and chirping their desperate song. His flowers, however, dances with the wind, singing their calming sonata.

“He’s here.” The blond says, as he raises his hand, palms facing the kneeling man. “What do you want?”

He can hear his bone crack from the wind, his soul slowly leaving his body. But he musters his remaining strength, and out of desperation, he yells “I want her to live! I want to live with her! But I just want her to live….” The blond smiles widely, until the man continued. “With me! I want to buy the most expensive dress for her. I want to have kids! I want to have her! If it was not because of this stupid God! I wish for him to perish! The God of Chaos is not needed! He only brings peril and destruction to this world!”

The blond smiles sadly. “You still have your selfishness with you, even at the brink of death. You dare defy a God, mask your selfishness with love. But this I say to you,

I am a lesser God than the one you defied. That does not mean, however, that I cannot save you. I just choose not to. For true poverty, is not when one thinks he has insufficient. It is when he thinks he has sufficient, even if he has none.”

_Only when one desperately needs him, does he appear. Only when one desperately calls him, does he answer. Only when one desperately struggles, does he provide. Only when one is poor, does Jeon Woong, God of Poverty, graces._

Everything turned into darkness. The trees slowly lost their life, and the birds above fall to their demise. The moon cries red while the sky mourns in pitch black. It is the end for him, and he knows it. He lies down helplessly on the ground, body burning from exhaustion and grief.

“How wise of you to run from me.” A voice suddenly says out of nowhere. “Seems like you called the wrong God.”

A man, all in black, appears by his foot with that same sly smirk he can never forget. The sly smirk that tore his world, is the same sly smirk that will end his life.

He wanted to talk, but nothing comes out when he opens his mouth – the previous yelling taking its toll. He just hears the God chuckle, every breath mocking him.

“I was going to let you live, although without her, but stealing this is a no-no.” The amulet in his hands were gone. He tries to search frantically, only to land on the God’s hands. _ He has the amulet_.

“The fires of the underworld await. Eternal nothingness welcomes you. For I, Lim Youngmin, God of Chaos, orders you to cease to exist.” Then the God disappeared. No warnings, no signals.

And just like that, the man vanishes into thin air, ashes and dust swirling with the wind, calling the name of his lover. A few say that whenever a strong wind arrives, they will first a hear a roaring sound: the sound of desperation and grief, before rain comes.


	2. A Godly Gift

_When the sky is dark, and the land is red_

_When the heart is black, and the soul is dead_

_When the scales of red and blue leans onto red_

_The God of Chaos shall appear and prepare for death_

He saw it all – how the man dissolves into the wind; how the God smirks for whatever he did. Woong heaves a sigh. It is another man lost. He, however, did not regret not saving the poor lad. The man brought it upon himself with his otherworldly needs - an impure one. Although he is a God who believes in second chances, he cannot risk disrupting world balance and the heavenly rules. Afterall, the one before him is a greater God than himself.

He bites his lip and lifts his palms up, poised to face the God standing on the vast field of sharp grass.

_“For the balance of the world is at stake_  
For the thoughts of man are impure  
I, Jeon Woong, God of Poverty  
Witness of an unending curse brought by a God  
Accepts the judgement of the God of Chaos”

Fallen leaves started swirling around the blond God as he closes his eyes. The moon started shining an angry yellow and the winds gently lift him up. With a small puff of air from his mouth, a ball of light started forming on his palms. Woong then opens his eyes and raises his hands. The sky morphs into a swirling hole, a ray of light coming down from it. He lets go of the ball and watches how it spins around the ray of light until the sky engulfs it. After everything has calmed down and returned to its normal state, he turns his back to leave, but a deep voice stops him.

“I know you’re there,” it says. Woong then bites his lip and slowly turns around, his arms slowly hugging himself. “You didn’t have to do it.”

Woong eyes widen and lifts his head up. There, he sees Youngmin in his full glory, the smirk replaced by a soft smile directed towards him. The God radiates gentleness and warmth while both his arms are behind his back, basking Woong as he slowly let his arms relax to his side.

“I…” He trails and averts the other God’s eyes. Youngmin continues to look at him, and he cannot help but cower a little. He is, after all, the Great God of Chaos. “It saves you from explaining yourself to Him, you know?”

“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to.” A soft chuckle escapes from Youngmin’s lips, but the God is quick to hide it by clearing his throat and a fake cough. “Long time no see, Woongie.”

Woong felt his entire body jolt up. There it was, the nickname only the God before him can use. The nickname that sends his celestial body on fire. The nickname that make his heavenly heart beat fast. He lets out shaky breaths and, in an attempt to calm himself down and regain his composure, shakes his head.

“Thank you for always taking care of me, but I have to go. A boy needs me.”

Youngmin’s forehead forms into a frown as he bore his eyes onto the blond God. His eyebrows knit together, making his body radiate thick air. Woong senses the God’s dismay and immediately bows his head and firmly shuts his eyes. The air is overwhelming, even for a deity such as himself. He starts drawing deep intakes of air and attempts to keep himself steady. Youngmin, noticing that he must have emitted an aura, eases himself and slowly walks towards Woong.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Youngmin says as he slowly attempts to grip Woong’s shoulders to prevent him from staggering further. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. It’s just that – “

“It’s okay. I must go. They have been worshipping for too long to ignore.” He cuts the other God as he turns his back to leave. With a final release of breath that he finds himself keeping from earlier, he turns his head to look at the male behind him.

“You take care. Not that anyone can harm you anyway, but I’ve been worrying too much lately.”

Just like that, Woong disappeared in a blink of an eye, leaving Youngmin alone in the forest. The God of Chaos releases a heavy sigh before walking on his feet towards nowhere, his heart heavy and fast.

_Never did anyone see the God of Chaos so weak and sad. Never did anyone hear the God of Chaos sigh. Never did anyone see the God of Chaos trail his eyes on another God. Never did anyone see the God of Chaos so broken. No one did, and no one will._

The scent of incense sticks burning fills the air inside the cramped room, its walls covered with nothing but old paint, but still spotless. A few things can be seen, but the room still feels a bit empty aside from the mattress, which takes up most of the space. Nothing can be seen except for the burning candle at the corner of the room, a kneeling boy crouched in front of the incense. With hands clasped both together, the boy clapped three times before speaking.

“God of Poverty, thank you for another day of letting me get by. Electricity has been cut off since yesterday, but the cool wind you had provided is more than enough to ventilate the room. My pencil has been shrinking as of late, but I found one on the way home. It is still damp though, so I may not be able to use it until it dries, but I wanted to thank you for even helping me in school. The owners were even kind enough to give me this room, but I am sure it is all thanks to you. If you would visit me sometime, you could see that there is still space for me to put a bunch of things. Jeon Woong, God of Poverty, thank you for giving me more than enough.”

Daehwi claps again, three times, before putting a small piece of cracker by the candle fire. He then closes his eyes and speaks again.

“This is what I am left with after I ate my lunch a while ago. I know it is not much, but it is all that I have got. I wanted to give more as you’ve been a great help to me, but I guess that would be in the future. Thank you once again, and I hope you continue to guide me.”

The boy stands up and raises arms up high as he could, before lying down on his bed. The night breeze blows inside his room, cooling every spot in the room making Daehwi slowly close his eyes. The cold wind continues to slide inside the room, singing Daehwi a lullaby. The candle fire sways a little bit, but stays lit, nonetheless. As minutes pass by, the candle stick continues to burn, without traces of melted wax dripping down its body. Then, the door slightly opens without making a sound, the night breeze on the entering deity’s feet.

“It’s him.” A voice quietly says. “The one who has been worshipping you for a long time.”

It is then, that Jeon Woong graced Lee Daehwi’s humble room, a gift from the God of Poverty himself. The blond God inspects every corner of the room, his eyes falling on the candle lit on the corner. He frowns for a second, his lips forming into a pout.

“Woojin,” He calls the Messenger of Justice. “Please put out the candle fire. His belongings might burn.”

The dark-skinned male nods, lightly walking towards the corner of the room where the candle is lit. He blows a soundless whistle in the direction of the candle, making it flicker wildly before dying out. Woojin then looks at the candle closer and traces the candle holder. With one touch, he can already tell the cool feeling of gold and silver alloy, with diamonds scattered in the candle itself disguised as glitters. He then looks up at Woong, who is currently fixing Daehwi’s stray strands of hair falling on his face.

“It is your special candle, though?” Woojin tilts his head and draws a sharp breath. “He cannot put it out, no matter what he does.”

Woong laughs softly while covering his mouth. “That is why, you need to be the one who will put it out every night, dear Woojin.”

Woojin’s eyebrows draw closer together as he partially opens his mouth, unsure what to say. He looks at the God before him, but Woong just smiled softly before returning his attention to the sleeping boy. He pats Daehwi’s head as gently as he could before settling on the boy’s crown as he closes his eyes. It is when Woojin’s eyebrows ease into soft creases in realization. He clears his mind and let peace fill his celestial body.

“You, who has struggled to live  
With nothing to get by except faith  
With your wish to always be guided  
I, Jeon Woong, God of Poverty  
Grants you your wish and a life of prosperity”

Daehwi turns on his side, his bed feeling soft for the very first time. He stretches his arms in satisfaction, only to come in contact with something hard. He struggles to open his eyes, the light from the window burning his drowsy eyes. It is then that Daehwi realized that his window should not be on the right side of the room, making him jolt up the bed. With his eyes slowly adjusting to the morning light, his eyes set down onto a dark-skinned male lying beside him, rubbing his eyes before speaking in a raspy, but handsome voice.

“Oh, you’re awake?” The male sits up on the bed, wiping his drool. “I’m Park Woojin, and I will be your guardian from now on.”

It is when the birds suddenly flew away and the trees shake a bit for Daehwi’s scream resonated throughout the forest.


	3. Of Angels and Law Bringers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late updates :-------( uni life is killing me but I promise to upload another chapter soon! For now, I hope you enjoy this for the time being :)

“Did you meet someone along the way?”

Woong averts his eyes, looking at anywhere but the handsome God before him. He attempts to swallow the lump on his throat as he feels cold sweat forming on the top of his forehead, his mind racking up reasons and backup answers just in case Donghyun asks further questions – if he ever sees through his futile attempts of lying. He bites his bottom lip before staring at Donghyun with the best straight face he could muster.

“No one, except for Woojin after sending him as the guardian angel of one of the humans.”

The moment Woong mentioned about sending Woojin to the human realm sends Donghyun’s forehead etching a frown, which Woong thinks it does not suit the Law Bringer at all. He finds it oddly relieving, though. Donghyun was obviously distracted to notice his lie.

As the God of Poverty stares into Donghyun’s flaring eyes, he does see the disappointment and confusion drawn all over the God’s face. His unfavorable reaction immediately sends Woong cowering and shrinking under the intense stare. Seeing Woong terrified makes Donghyun soften in an instant, arms extending to caress the other God’s cheeks.

“Woong, I gave Woojin to you as your personal guardian.” Donghyun sighs as his hands fall on his sides, eyes still fixed on Woong. “Why did you give it to someone else – a mere human at that?”

Alarms sound inside Woong’s head after Donghyun’s comment. It was now his turn to frown, looking at Donghyun directly with intense eyes.

Humans are the Gods’ prized treasures, at least for Woong. Aside from their worship and offerings, humans give Gods their purpose. They give them responsibilities, tasks, and most of all, importance. Heck, they are even given names based on humanistic needs and dilemmas. For Donghyun to call them just _mere humans_ somehow offends Woong - be it because of his strong attachment to the human world, or just because of any other reason.

“A mere human? Donghyun, did you hear what you just said?” Woong scoffs, a huff of breath escaping his lips. “I didn’t know it would come from the Law Bringer himself; calling his previous form a _mere _human.”

Donghyun draws a long sigh again. “You know that I did not mean it that way, right?”

“It looks awfully a lot to me, _Law Bringer_.”

Donghyun visibly shakes upon hearing Woong’s voice laced with distaste. His eyes search Woong’s own for understanding, but utterly fails, as he finds something close to disgust. He then attempts to take steps toward the other God, only for Woong to match with a step backwards. Donghyun does not give up though, pulling Woong through the air without the smaller God coming in contact with his hands. His hands immediately find solace in Woong’s waist, circling around them before engulfing him in a hug.

“I just wanted you to be safe, Jeon Woong.” Donghyun says, closing his eyes in relief as Woong makes no attempt in breaking his haven. “I have a lot on my plate already. I just do not want you to be of harm’s way when I am not looking.”

The other God, though, tried to keep his squirming to himself. It is not that he was uncomfortable, but rather he feels something off whenever Donghyun does things like this.

He cannot help but feel everything is not right whenever Donghyun hugs him. He feels quite disturbed whenever Donghyun gently touches him in an attempt to comfort him. Don’t get him wrong, he is very thankful to the other God. He truly is. He is thankful for Donghyun’s words of affirmation whenever he feels not enough. He is thankful whenever Donghyun asks how he is after his usual human checks. It is just that he feels something is missing; something his heart cannot pinpoint. Is it the sweet actions? Is it the sweet nothings? Is it the unwavering support? Is the person, not right? He does not know.

“I’m sorry for being another burden for you, Kim Donghyun. I’ll try not to.” Woong chuckles before finally breaking the hug, his eyes smiling like the stars they are supposed to be holding.

“Besides, I’m a God, aren’t I?”

They fill the gardens with their joys and laughter – no malice, no reservations. Amidst the fits of laughter, Donghyun stops midway to look at the other God beside him, still laughing his adorable high-pitched cackles and slapping Donghyun’s arms repeatedly like there is no tomorrow. He quietly observes Woong; the way his eyes hold the stars, the way his laugh fills the air, the way his presence lightens up Donghyun’s world. His eyes travel from Woong’s hair, eyes, lips, arms, until his eyes reach down to his soft and delicate hands. Donghyun thanks that the God does not stop laughing for if he did, he might see the longing in his eyes. Those prized hands that he had never, ever, once touched; what more could he claim it his.

_Their hands so close, yet so far of reach_  
Their hearts beat fast, yet yearns different each  
One longs for the other, one longs for another  
If Gods’ shape human lives  
Who shapes ours?  


“What do you mean _you’re_ my guardian angel?”

Woojin sighs again for countless times, clutching his temples in an attempt to stop the bubbling ache starting to form in his head.

“How many times would I repeat that the Great God of Poverty graced your humble abode, and gave you his most prized gift?”

“His prized gift is this enormous mansion you call a _house_?!” Daehwi almost screams in front of Woojin, hands moving animatedly, as if it will help him make a point.

“I swear, Mr. Woojin, if you are trying to kidnap me, I am sorry to inform you that no one will give you your ransom because I am poor as hell, and I don’t have friends.”

“What the – Are you seriously that stupid?!”

Daehwi stares at the tan-skinned male, or _God whatever_, before him and moves his eyes to study him from head to toe. His eyes turn to look at the other’s eyes, scrutinizing every inch of the male before him for signs of lies and mischief. Daehwi’s eyes turn into harmless slits, but still suspicious nonetheless, his forehead showcasing a hard frown. Woojin, however, just sits there, unmoving and emotionless. He deadpans as the little human scans his every being for minutes already.

What is so hard to believe in what he said? Are humans generally this stupid? What in _I am sent by the God of Poverty_ is so hard to understand? He tried so hard to level his speech to that of the humans, yet this earthling still does not comprehend a thing?

_Did Woong give Woojin this task knowing he would be taking care of one stupid human?_

Woojin’s questioning of Woong’s ordeal becomes interrupted when Daehwi squishes the other male’s cheeks, turning the head side to side as if checking for something. The human starts stroking Woojin’s cheeks using his thumbs, eyes staring at the angel’s which Woojin daringly returned.

The stare was long and intense and Woojin cannot help but notice how Daehwi’s eyes seem to sparkle a bit. He cannot help but notice how his nose has the soft arc perfect for his face. He also notices the slight bags under Daehwi’s eyes, wondering what the reason behind those imperfections are. But last is that he cannot help but notice how the human’s lips look pink and glossy, albeit being parted slightly.

It is an understatement to say that Daehwi is surprised as he gasps in surprise the moment his hands touch the other’s skin. Touching Woojin’s cheeks feels like moving his fingers through a cloth of silk made by the most expert weavers. Or maybe it felt more like touching freshly made marshmallows? Either way, it really felt like he was touching something ethereal – something making him feel safe.

Daehwi is the first to break the eye contact, turning his back towards Woojin. He palms and clutches his chest as he attempts to calm the angry drums of his heart. He cannot believe he is currently experiencing the overly dramatic “butterflies in the stomach” he has read in one of his favorite fanfictions. Why the hell does this Woojin, who claims to be an _angel sent by the God of Poverty_, look onto his lips like that? What’s worse is a stranger is making him feel these things! He had only known Woojin for a good hour or less and this is what he gets? Should he have listened to his mom about her “do not talk to strangers” thing?

“Princess, as much as I want to explain everything to you _again_,” Woojin says as he turns Daehwi around by his shoulders, making the smaller male face him. “I believe you are late for your class.”

Daehwi is about to get his cellphone when the male before him flashes before him the device with big, bold, numbers reading 8:17, sending the human scramming towards the bathroom.

“If the professor gives me a demerit, I will kill you Mr. Angel.”


End file.
